


Cool If I Come Over

by castielshoneybee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9322454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielshoneybee/pseuds/castielshoneybee
Summary: Reader buys a new house and befriends the quirky writer who lives next door.





	

You stand in front of the house, feeling a sense of pride. Yours. Your home. No landlord, no rental agency, nobody to answer to as long as the mortgage company gets their money every month. You could tear out a wall if you wanted to, not that you know the first thing about tearing out a wall. Still, it's nice to know you could. You look at the house next door. It's kind of run down, but hey, not your house. As long as they're not obnoxious, you're good. Holding the key tightly in your hand, you step onto the porch and open the door.

****

You're curious about your neighbor. The people on the other side of you are nice. They always say hello when they see you outside. The wife even invited you in for coffee. You don't have much in common, but they're pleasant enough. The other side, though, that's a different story. You’re pretty sure it's a single guy. You don't see him much. You try not to be that nosy neighbor, but sometimes you see him moving around in the house. It's intriguing. From the glimpses you've gotten, he's not that old. God help you, but you're a sucker for a mystery.

****

You're mowing your small lawn when the idea pops into your head. Resolved, you stop the mower and march up his front walk, stepping on the front porch and taking a breath before knocking on the door. You wait. You see some movement, then the door opens. He's short. Taller than you, but short. His brown hair is curly and unruly, but his beard is well kept. His eyes, though, they stun you for a moment. They're strikingly blue, but they look so tired.

“Yes?” His voice brings you back to the present.

“Oh, hi.” You tell him your name. “I just moved in next door. I was mowing my lawn, and I thought I'd come over and ask you if you might like me to do yours as well, clean it up and whatnot. Neither of our yards are very big, so it wouldn't be any trouble, and I love yard work.” He stands looking at you for a moment, then shrugs. 

“I guess that would be okay.”

“Great! I'll get started, then.” You smile, then turn to walk away.

“Oh hey.” You turn back to him at his words. “I'm Chuck.”

“It's nice to meet you, Chuck.”

****

You stop the mower, grabbing the bandana from your pocket to wipe the sweat off your forehead. Even both lawns together wasn't that big of a job, but it had warmed up considerably since you started, and you were pretty hot and thirsty. You push the mower around to the front of Chuck’s house and find him standing on the porch. He'd changed his clothes. When he answered the door, he was in a bathrobe. Now he was in a pair of jeans and a button up shirt. _Well, he cleans up nicely._ He gives you a smile. It's a really nice smile.

“All done?”

“Yep. If you want, I can do yours whenever I do mine.”

“That's really nice of you. You, uh, wanna come in for a beer? It's the least I can do.”

“A beer sounds great.” You leave the mower in the yard and climb up the steps, following Chuck into the house. It's cluttered, but it's not quite as out of control as the outside. There are books everywhere. You follow him back to the kitchen, taking the seat he indicates at the table. He pulls two beers out of the fridge, popping the caps off and handing you one before seating himself across the table. You sit in awkward silence for a moment, sipping your beers and sort of glancing around. The silence starts getting to you, so you break it. 

“So, you like to read?”

“Yeah, I'm a writer. It sort of comes with the territory.”

“Oh, that's really cool! Have you written anything I might've read?”

“Have you heard of the _Supernatural_ series?”

“No.”

“I'm not surprised. Anyway, I wrote them. My pen name is Carver Edlund.”

“Well, then I'll have to check them out.” With the ice broken, conversation starts to come easily, and you spend the next hour making small talk and getting to know each other a little. Chuck's not nearly as weird as you thought he'd be. He's definitely a little nervous, and his self esteem seems pretty low, but he's a nice guy. You're a little sad when you look at the time and realize you have to go. “I gotta go. I've got some furniture delivery guys coming any minute. Thank you for the beer and the conversation.”

“Anytime.” He flashes that smile again, then walks you to the door. “So, I'll see you around.”

“Definitely!” You smile and give him a little wave as you grab the mower and start pushing it home. You like Chuck. You don't have many friends, and he seems like he could be a good one.

****

Two weeks have passed, and you haven't seen Chuck apart from a few friendly waves from the mailbox. You pull your mower out of the shed and get to work, doing both backyards at the same time since there's no fence separating them. You catch movement out of the corner of your eye and look up to see Chuck waving from the kitchen window. You return the greeting, and the curtain drops back over the window. You finish the back and move around to the front, swinging across your postage stamp of a front yard, then moving over to Chuck's, where you're surprised to see him bustling around the front porch. He waves, then goes back into the house. Chuck's front yard doesn't have much grass, so you're done in no time. _Maybe I'll grab some grass seed at the garden center and throw it down, see if I can get some sort of lawn going over here._ You turn to see Chuck standing at the top of the steps, leaning against a column.

“You hungry? I made lunch.” You grin at his thoughtfulness.

“I'm starving. Thanks!”

“Hey, it's the least I could do.” You climb the steps to find a table set on the porch with sandwiches, a pasta salad, and some beers. You take a seat, and Chuck takes his place opposite you.

“This looks great!” You gratefully dig into your food, making happy sounds at your first bite. Chuck smiles, pleased with your enthusiasm. Lunch is a comfortable affair. You talk and laugh, sitting long after the meal is gone. 

“Wait, you're telling me you've never seen _Escape from New York_?” You shake your head. “Oh, we're fixing that. Come on.” You dutifully stand and follow him into the house, plopping onto the couch while he finds the DVD and puts it in the player. “I can't believe you haven't seen this. What other holes in your pop culture knowledge are we going to have to fill? Have you seen _Star Wars_?” You laugh. 

“Yes, I've seen _Star Wars_.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, all of them.” He actually looks visibly relieved.

“Well, at least there's that. I don't think we could be friends if you hadn't seen those.” He settles himself next to you on the couch and hits play.

****

“Hello?”

“Hey, Chuck. What’cha doing?”

“Not much. Just taking a break from writing.”

“Good. Come over.”

“What for?”

“It's my turn to fill one of your pop culture holes.”

Five minutes later, there's a knock at your door. You let Chuck in and direct him to the couch while you run into the kitchen to grab popcorn and a couple beers. You balance the popcorn on the couch between you and hand Chuck a beer, then hit play.

“Aww, man. _Bridget Jones’ Diary_? Really?”

“Just shut up and watch, Shurley. You'll like it.”

****

“Okay, I have to admit. That was really funny.” You're both sitting propped against opposite arms of the couch, legs stretched out next to each other's. “That fight scene was ridiculous.” You both laugh remembering Colin Firth and Hugh Grant awkwardly punching and kicking at each other.

“See, I told you you'd like it.”

“I did. Next movie night's my choice, though. _Logan’s Run_.” You groan, and Chuck laughs. “Shut up. You'll like it.”

****

You're sitting on Chuck's porch having beers and watching the day fade into twilight.

“So, my publisher wants me to do this convention thing.”

“A Supernatural convention? That's cool!”

“Yeah, I don't know if I'm going to do it.”

“Why not? You could use the money.”

“I know, but you know how anxious I get. Remember the book signing?”

“You threw up on my shoes. That's not exactly something you forget.” You giggle at Chuck's cringe, then continue. “Anyway, I still think you should do it. More exposure means the possibility of publishing again.”

“Good point. Okay, I'll do it. You wanna come with me?”

“And have the chance to get puked on again? Hell yeah! When is it?” You sigh when he tells you the date. “I can't. That's my cousin's wedding. Damn, I was going to make you come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend to get my grandma off my back.” He laughs. 

“Shit. Well, I guess we're both going it alone.” He pauses. “Don’t forget I bought you new shoes.”

“Damn right you did.” You take a swig of your beer and look out into the waning light, falling into companionable silence.

****

“You met a girl?” Chuck's just gotten back from the convention and is sitting on your couch telling you about the weekend. You have a weird feeling he's not telling you everything.

“Yeah, her name’s Becky. She seems pretty great.” You don't know why, but the idea of Chuck dating bothers you. _Don't be ridiculous. He's your best friend. You should be happy for him._ Somehow you're not, but you put on a happy face anyway.

“That's great! I hope I can meet her.”

“She's coming to visit in two weeks. We can all have dinner.” You, Chuck, and his new girlfriend having dinner. The idea fills you with dread.

“Awesome. Can't wait.”

****

 _Something is wrong with this girl. She is not right._ Two hours into dinner with Becky, and you have got seriously bad vibes. She babbles, which could be explained away as nervousness, but you have this feeling that's just what she's like. She just seems off. _Are you sure it's not just because you have feelings for Chuck?_ No. You do not have “feelings” for Chuck. You have best friend feelings for Chuck. That's it. You stab what's left of your pie a few times with your fork, then sigh and pick up the plate, carrying it into the kitchen to put it in the sink. You start doing the dishes to get out of the dining room for a while. After a few minutes, you hear a throat clearing behind you. You turn around to find Becky in the doorway.

“Don’t think I don't see it.” You put the dish towel down as she walks toward you.

“See what?”

“The way you look at Chuck. You had your chance. He's mine, and don't you forget it.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about. We're best friends. That's it.”

“Mmm hmm.” She turns and walks out of the kitchen. You stand there, knowing that she might be a psycho, but she's right.

****

You're sitting on the couch reading when you hear a knock at the door. You open it to find Chuck standing there, looking upset.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I'm not…” He slides past you into the house.

“Yes you are. We've hardly hung out in weeks.” You sigh and sit on the couch. He sits next to you, glancing at the book on the coffee table. _Bugs?_ "

“Yeah. You know I love your books so far, but I'm having a hard time getting through this one.”

“It’s not my best work. But don't change the subject. What's going on?” You scrub your hands over your face before looking at him. Sky blue eyes seem be staring down into your soul, his brow is furrowed, and his mouth is turned down into a frown. You can't tell him the truth. You can't tell him you've fallen in love with him. You can't listen to him tell you he doesn't love you back.

“I just...Becky doesn't like me. I don't want our friendship to get between the two of you, so I thought I should keep my distance for a while.”

“That's ridiculous. You're my best friend. You don't have to stop hanging out with me just because I have a girlfriend.”

“I do, though. You don't understand.”

“So, make me understand.”

“I can't. I just have to. Can you please just go?” He opens his mouth as if he's going to say something, then closes it again and sighs. He stands and walks over to the door, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” And then he's gone. Your head falls into your hands, and the tears come.

****

You haven't seen Chuck in a month. You've lost track of the number of times you've picked up the phone to call him, only to put it back down, or the number of times you've almost walked over there just to stop yourself at your front door. You get home from work to see Becky's car in front of his house. Your chest tightens. It should be you over there, but it's not, and you just have to accept that. You drag yourself into the house. 

****

A few hours later, you're watching TV when you hear yelling. You mute the TV and peek through the curtains. It's coming from Chuck's. You don't see anything at first, but after a few minutes, you see Becky slam out of the house, get into her car, and drive away. Ten seconds later, the phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, is it cool if I come over?”

“Yeah.”

One minute later, he's at the door. You open it, and he stands there, looking nervous. You open the door wide, and he comes in. He stands in the middle of the living room, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself. You stand a few feet away, waiting. 

“I broke up with Becky.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. It just wasn’t right. She wasn't the right girl for me.” He stares down at his feet.

“She wasn't?” You try to will yourself not to feel hope.

“No. I just...I realized I could never have a relationship with her when someone else has my heart.” He lifts his head and locks his eyes onto yours. In them you see everything he wants to say and everything you feel. Your heart pounds and your breath catches in your throat. The words fall from your lips unbidden. 

“I love you, Chuck.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. He takes two steps toward you, and you mirror him, meeting in the middle. He reaches out and cups your cheeks with both hands.

“I love you, too.” It's as if everything disappears except his face. He leans toward you and gently presses a kiss to your lips. Your arms rise to wrap around his waist. You press your foreheads together, eyes closed, breathing in one another's scents. Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“What took us so long?”

“We're stupid.”

“Yeah we are. Let's not be stupid anymore, okay?” A grin splits his face, and he pulls you into a tight hug.

“Deal.”


End file.
